


Union So Sweet

by palomino333



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Major Character Undeath, Older Man/Younger Woman, Tragic Romance, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3628551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palomino333/pseuds/palomino333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his darkest hour, a doctor finds closeness with those in his care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Union So Sweet

Raccoon General Hospital was usually seen as a beacon of hope to its city's inhabitants. Its exterior glowed all through the night, its light soft and comforting, as if embracing a victim in need. For the two survivors that were struggling through the second basement of the building, however, there was only darkness.

"Hold on to my hand!" Doctor George Hamilton commanded as he helped his friend, Cindy Lennox, down the long hallway that made up the area towards the door at the very end. The light fixtures set into the walls and ceiling flickered into a ghostly fashion. The water that dripped off the wire mesh shelf in the back echoed eerily, as did the footsteps of George and Cindy. The smells of a rotting corpse lying on the floor, and the garbage bags it was near, were disgusting.

Cindy glanced up at him, and nodded slowly. Pain strained her movements. She tried to smile as she weakly grabbed it, but it was soon turned to a frown by the effort. The doctor became ever the more worried for her safety. An encounter with the gruesome abomination that was the Leech Man had left her with nasty gashes up and down her arms, as well as her neck. Her back was badly hurt by the creature's smacking her with its "arm" of leeches into the hard metal wall of the laboratory that they had just exited from.

XXXXXX

It had been completely against the premeditated plan, which had been made with David King, their only surviving friend. They had tried to lure the creature into the temperature control room with the last one of their precious few tantalizing blood packs, and burn it alive.

Unfortunately, as they had been en route to their destination, the monster had crashed through the ventilation shaft grate in the adjoining laboratory, and landed practically on top of them. Cindy, unluckily, had been the closest of the three to the ventilation shaft. King had been the first to act, darting away from the creature. Hamilton had flung himself whole-heartedly into the battle to save Miss Lennox, swinging his crutch, a poor excuse for a weapon, as viciously as he could while she attempted to crawl away on the floor below.

The fight had been nerve-racking, scary, and very surreal. The movement of the leeches had threatened to overcome the doctor with dizziness. As a result, his swings became weaker and less accurate as the black, writhing wall waved back and forth before him. The disgusting noise of their tiny bodies sliding against the much larger host body and each other were coupled with Cindy screaming in the way of a martyr for him to be careful.

This had all been happening in his hospital, his second home, whose many rooms and the area outside had been and still were populated by the corpses of his friends. Yoko's crumpled body at the side of the stairs leading to the first floor from where she had been thrown over the rail… Alyssa, sprawled like a rag doll against the sink rim that her skull had been smashed against… Jim's heavily mutilated body lying just outside of the hospital after being pulled through a broken window to the ravenous zombie horde… Kevin's body, half-stripped of its meat from the small pack of zombie dogs… Mark's massive form, draped over the code input panel where he had so bravely stood with his back to the Leech Man while typing the proper numbers… They were all gone, as were his co-workers. Their sanities had been crushed by their transformations into zombies. He had panted hard as he swung, all the while feeling sweat flowing freely down his back. He had let out a cry of surprise as the crutch had broken completely to pieces from its overuse, leaving the two completely defenseless.

And suddenly, it had been over. The Leech Man had slid off to the left briskly. George had dropped to his knees, and gathered the battered and sobbing Cindy into his arms protectively. He had looked over his shoulder in that direction to see David backing out through the door leading to the temperature control room with the Leech Man close behind, though pausing every few moments to lap up the droplets of blood on the floor. In the plumber's left hand had been his gun, which he had then been firing at the creature. In his right had been the open transfusion pack, upended. Above that pack had been a self-inflicted slit on his wrist to ensure his success.

The doctor had looked down at the badly injured girl, and had to resist a cry of helplessness and frustration at seeing the blood running down the right side of her face from the gash just below her hairline. She had needed urgent medical attention, but at the same time, David had also needed help. They had come to a silent, mutual understanding to help their friend. The two had followed as quickly as they could, with the male half-carrying the female.

Cindy's limp had slowed them down, but it had soon proved to be a godsend. By the time the two had entered the temperature control room, David had already lured the creature inside, and dumped out the last of the pack for the monster to drink. It had been kneeling on the floor overtop of it. The plumber had been hurrying as quickly as he could to leave in time, with his two allies cheering him on, when the creature stood bolt upright, and made his way for him. "DAVID, MOVE!" George had screamed at the top of his lungs.

Shortly after, the Leech Man had switched direction, and smacked a "fist" into the window of the temperature-controlled chamber, leaving a massive spider-crack. George and Cindy had ducked below the panel to avoid the shards of broken glass. Her hand had gripped onto his shoulder tightly, and he had held her as close as bodily possible. Somehow, that creature had known they were there, and one more hit would bring him to land right in front of them. The sad part had been that it would all happen so fast; there wouldn't be any time for fear.

A sharp bang had gone off from inside the chamber, which had been thoroughly startling, but no second pound and following breaking of glass had come. After a few moments, they had tentatively peeked up over the panel, and seen the Leech Man crouched down over something on the floor to feed off of it. Cindy's hands had flown to her mouth, and George had lost all color in his face when the realization had dawned on them that that something had been a someone: David King. The only honor that could have been bestowed upon his death had been cremation with the freakish being that had taken his life.

XXXXXX

Cindy breathed hard, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, from where she sat against the wall while George worked as quickly as he could to free the chained boat. It was fortunate that the thought had come to explore the first basement, rather than the second basement, first. He was encountering error. The dire need to leave the hospital, as well as to find help for the waitress, was causing him to fumble with the key.

At last, the padlock dropped. The clinking of its chain on the floor sounded as beautiful as a church bell. George let out a sigh of relief as he stood and turned to face Cindy, but that relief was quickly washed away.

Although there had been a hemostat in the temperature control room to relieve the bleeding, her face, and other visible parts of her body were deathly pale. Her once life-filled eyes were cast down at the floor with a strange sort of blankness to them. Her legs, covered in bruises, were splayed out and bent at odd, tired angles. She raised her head to look at him, and her face revealed sadness and torment. "I feel sick, George," Cindy whispered.

Hamilton darted over to her, and got down on his knee. He couldn't deny the fear that was gripping him tightly. The virus was beginning to take her body over in her weakened state. What a waste of a good life. Cindy was a good soul that cared for others over herself. She was undeserving of such an unjust punishment. Her young age had offered a lot of potential, and that had been taken from her. George could just as easily dismiss her as another lost patient, much like the other ill-fated citizens of Raccoon City. Yet, he couldn't do it to her. He genuinely cared for this girl, and wished to have had the time to have gotten to know her on different circumstances. He couldn't just let her die like this! The doctor cupped her face in his hands, trying to keep his tone and expression level and reassuring as he declared, "Cindy, I'll get you the help you need. Just a little further." He had swallowed his pride before saying that. Yes, the doctor of all people was out of supplies and resources to care for those in his charge, the Leech Man and the other monsters had been that destructive.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face, making him feel at least some happiness. She still believed in him, even after all had been lost. "Okay," she whispered.

Knowing very well that she was too weak to get there herself, George slipped his arms under her, and picked her up. Her legs dangled uselessly as she laid her head against his chest. It would have been romantic, if it were not for such a macabre atmosphere. Nonetheless, George felt his pulse quicken slightly as she slowly pressed her right cheek against his chest, laying her left hand close by. "Thank you so much," she rasped.

"You don't have to. It's my duty," he replied gently.

She shook her head slowly. "Don't say that." George was partly looking down at her eyes as he tried to settle himself into the boat without losing his balance. They were lacking their previous blank state for something else, but it was too shrouded by pain and weakness to completely understand. "There's more…more to it, isn't there?" She asked, her voice rising and falling with bursts of strength.

He gently shushed her. "You're depriving yourself of energy." Hamilton was finding it hard to fathom how he could be acting so calmly in such a dire situation. She was right; there was more to it than that, something emotional, something alive. It was what made him so scared of losing her, and so stubborn to admit the fact that help wouldn't arrive in time.

She shook her head again. "Please…George, tell me…" He struggled hard with the words. In the state of emotional and mental trauma he was in, it was a miserable ordeal. The fact that he was only recently divorced only made it worse. George knew he should reach back, and take a tug to get the vehicle going, but he didn't. He felt like he couldn't move for some odd reason. It was ironic, given the fact that they were in a place that any rational being would flee from as soon as possible. Then again, rationality had been one of the first things to go in this city. "Because…It's definitely more to me."

The doctor didn't know what came over him. Those words provided the catalyst for him to kiss the lovely dying girl he held in his arms, his hand pushing the back of her head toward him, though without a strong enough force to harm her. She didn't seem to mind; in fact, she leaned into it whole-heartedly. That was when he saw it for a brief moment: life. The cold walls he had placed between himself and patients to cope with their suffering, and between himself and those he knew before the outbreak to cope with the divorce of his wife, fell away. George felt one with someone once again.

But he felt her push began to slip away almost as soon as it had begun, and his eyes snapped open, yanking him back into reality again. He broke the kiss and cried out, "Cindy, wake up!" He shook her, but she didn't respond. Her eyes were closed, and she lay lifelessly in his arms. He repeated himself quite a few times over, his voice becoming more and more hysterical until he was on the verge of breaking down. Despite his knowledge of various medical conditions, the doctor was finding it extremely hard to realize that the last person he was close to, not to mention the most close to, was gone. He sat there in the boat as it bobbed in water, surrounded by silence.

George's failure to admit the truth sealed his fate. A long, drawn-out moan escaped from the body of the female he held, and it slowly began to squirm against him. He moved to shove it off in fear, but wasn't quick enough. The zombie grabbed tightly onto him with renewed strength, pressing him back against the motor, making the boat rock slightly. He was forced to stare into its face.

Whatever beauty that was in Cindy's face was gone as the wound on her head burst back open, pouring blood down once more. Her facial flesh made a revolting squishing noise as the organ began to lose strength, sliding off of once-tight packed muscles and bone. Drool spilled out of her parted mouth, whose teeth had already begun to yellow. Its lolling tongue was mottled with rapidly decaying tissue. Blood was beginning to run out of her nose, stark against the pale color of her face. Her eyes, once so full of hope and dreams, reflected only his scared image in their empty stare. With another groan, she swung her head down to bury her teeth in his neck. Although George struggled to keep her off of him, it was too no use. He was simply too exhausted.

As his consciousness was torn away, the doctor once again found his sense of humanity with his seven precious patients, those that had been closest to his heart. This time, it didn't go away. Instead, it remained like a second skin, much like how his old, inadequate human body would be replaced by the newer, more forceful one of the undead. The failure of Umbrella…the penalty of his kind.


End file.
